


Bring the angels to their knees

by Whenhopediesyoung



Series: Ships passing in the night [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Other, Semi-Public Sex, Supernatural Reverseverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whenhopediesyoung/pseuds/Whenhopediesyoung
Summary: Sam gasps grabbing at the hunters broad shoulders. He's an angel of god, revered honored. His vessel's about to fill the other man's mouth with illspent young. Raphael pulls back grinning. "Come on angel." His tongue brushes the tip of Sam's dick. "Don't leave me wanting."





	Bring the angels to their knees

This was a mistake. Samuel was an angel of God. An Arch Angel. Not some human, easily beguiled by dark warm eyes and a challenging smirk. "Focus on me." The hunter growls hand curling in his vessel's hair. Samuel gasps as he pulls, pain igniting into pleasure. He lists close gasping, already overwhelmed. Full lips press punishingly against his own. He feels a thread of panic as his grace arches under the touch. More. He wants more.

He could stop this. The fact that he hasn't already is damning, hellfire under his guise. He's an angel. He could stop the hunters lungs. He could reach into his soul and grab, bringing Raphael to the brink of something incomprehensible. Make him burn in an altogether different way. Then Raphael groans pressing tight and Samuel gives way like he's God Himself.

He can feel the tightly wound body, the hands, both now, pulling him this way and that. They were supposed to be watching for the other hunters. For the demon prince. Not grasping at each other in corners, one wrong move from discovery. His hand slides against a flat stomach. Fingers dipping beneath underwear. Lacy, cut for a woman's body. Perhaps Raphael had started today a women. He was a man now, regardless apparent in the way he moves, in the glimmer of his soul.

The idea, that he might be able to tell the difference in the way Raphael takes his pleasure wraps around his mind. He wants it like he wants his Father's approval. Like he wants the angels under his command to flourish. Hopeless and gasping. Raphael is gasping, as Samuel slides his fingers into the other man's wet warmth. Pressing impossibly closer. And yet it's Samuel's self control that vanishes under the onslaught of pleasure.

He keens, helpless, pressing kiss after kiss on him. Cheek, brow, mouth, throat yanked back each time and still surging foward at each opportunity. More and more appear as Raphael loses himself to the restless thrust of Sam's fingers. A visegrip of his wrist pulls them away, helps drag Sam back against the wall. Raphael crowds him, wrapping his legs around his thighs, chasing his pleasure greedily. 

Sam watches each movement, dumbstruck, to blinded by awe to think to offer assistance. He can feel the rough fabric of the other man's jeans, knows it's limiting the sensations maddingly. His frantic movements brush Sam's erection, jolting him back into a frenzy. He pulls the other man close, hips jumping up helplessly. He wants to be _inside_ him. 

Raphael gets there first, jaw going slack, mouth parted as if on a prayer. Sam wants to worship him. Wants to build statues and churches and armies in his honor. He's seen all of humanity and nothing has ever stuck him like this. And then, Raphael smirks, the opposite of holy, hands grasping Sam's belt. He drops to his knees before him.

 _Did you expect me to genuflect?_ He'd asked when they first met. _Not like this_ , Sam answers sliently months upon months later.

He doesn't wait, or ask or warn, just pulls down Sam's underwear and takes him into his mouth. The sound Sam makes is unwitting for humans let alone beings made of grace. It's hot, tight but the visuals will haunt him later. Proud, composed, Raphael on his knees cheeks hollowed as he sucks harshly. His full lips at the base of Sam's dick, damp with saliva. The way his eyelids close, serene, as if he is sleeping.

And then he pulls off, eyes full of challenge, of glee. And licks the tip of Sam's dick. The angel shudders, head flying back even as his hips jolt foward. "Say my name. Say it like you want all of your soilders to hear it." He shouldn't, he shouldn't but Raphael has the tip of his dick in his mouth and is sucking. "Raphael." He half sobs in enochoian, voice carrying to all the host.

Raphael glows, orders him to hold on to him, and starts bobbing his head. Sam grabs onto him like he's the only thing that can keep him upright. He's tightening, hips burning from his shallow thrusts, balls drawing up. He's afraid he might burn, might find his wings pulling off upon his completion. This is unholy. The way Raphael swallows around him is unholy. He thrusts harder, fingers digging deep into the meat of broad shoulders. God can't stop him now. It would kill him.

Raphael pulls back grinning. "Come on angel." His tongue brushes the tip of Sam's dick. "Don't leave me wanting." And he finishes across his face vision shuddering. His body feels weak, covered in sweat, like he'd given Raphael all his strength. He can't bare to open his eyes just yet, struggling to put his thoughts back together.

"Hey, Archangel. They're here." Raphael, absurdly is composed tossing a wad of tissues to the ground. He's cleaned himself up, looks as if he hadn't just pulled Sam into sin. He holds out a hand, scarred from the life. "Let's go." Sam could leave, could let this hunter to his fate, allow this temptation to disappear all the sooner.

He grabs his hand. "Let's go meet them."


End file.
